


The Apartment

by diefleder_tey



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diefleder_tey/pseuds/diefleder_tey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the lights go out, friends and roommates - Tacchon and Ryo - don't think much of it.  As they soon discover, things aren't always what they seem to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apartment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for beltenebra for the 2012 [je_squickfic](http://je-squickfic.livejournal.com/) exchange. If you start reading it and think it's not your thing, it may be worth reading until the end? Super huge thanks to amhrancas for betaing and input - and most importantly, for not letting me send Ryo into a fight with just a lampshade.

 

At first, when the lights went out - a sudden plunge into darkness - neither gave it much thought. Ryo was on the couch, thumb rapidly hitting buttons on his cell phone as he replied to a text. In the kitchen, Tacchon, as his friends liked to call him, was on his way to the sink, empty plate in hand having just finished dinner. For Ryo the change in light was barely perceptible, and Tacchon dumped his dish on the counter with a shrug, in no hurry to clean it. He felt his way back to the couch and flopped down next to his friend – his roommate – and waited for the lights to come back on. Even though the dim glow of the phone illuminated just a small tunnel in the room, it was enough for Tacchon to notice that Ryo looked tired – visible bags under his eyes and sallow skin. They'd both been pulling double shifts at the restaurant where they worked – Ryo had even conned his way in to helping out at the bar without a license. They usually kept different hours at work and when they were both home, they'd stay up even later to practice – or at least try to, improving their band any way they could without waking the neighbors. Eventually, Tacchon knew, they'd get out of their apartment – their tiny, cramped, rundown apartment. Eventually, they'd make it and freedom would be just down the street; they'd be stars, playing music and starring in movies, guesting on tv. They just needed to make it a little longer, just needed to hang on during the grueling hours and through the days when the apartment was too small and they couldn't help but get on each other's nerves. Just a few more dirty dishes and cheap meals, a few more days with the rust stained bathroom. A little longer and it'd all be okay – Tacchon knew; they just needed to survive.

Power outages rarely merited attention. But after an hour, Ryo started to complain, still thumbing away at his phone – this time with a game – trying to will the boring seconds to pass faster. Tacchon stared up at the ceiling, which was thinly lit like a ghost thanks to the light from Ryo's screen. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Dunno," Ryo said, unwilling to stop his game.

Tacchon blinked. Without an answer, he knew they'd been sitting there for far longer than normal. "I'm going to bed," he replied, standing up. "Might as well. Let me borrow your phone, I can't see where I'm going."

"Just use yours."

"It's dead. I was going to plug it in after dinner."

"But I'm at the best part," Ryo said, distractedly. Tacchon rolled his eyes slightly and gave up; he shuffled off toward the bedroom.

Ryo didn't notice him leaving, or the huff of his breath as he announced his departure, but the sudden feeling of being alone struck him. He sprang up and quickly caught up to his friend, accidentally shining the cell phone's light into his eyes. "Hang on, wait," he said, reaching out to grab his shirt. "I'll go with you."

As they passed by the window of their apartment, Tacchon noticed that the street looked just as dark. "Must be the whole block," he commented.

In the morning, the power was still out.

Ryo let out a disgruntled yell before flopping back down into his previous spot on the couch. "This is ridiculous, how long does it take to fix the power? I've got stuff to do."

Tacchon grabbed his laptop and sat next to him, quickly remembering how truly inconvenient blackouts were. It wasn't just the lights – until the power came back on, his laptop was good for little more than a handful of games, all of which would merely drain his battery down to its last breath of life, like Ryo and his phone. It also meant no tv, no getting his phone recharged, and, worst of all, he realized as his stomach grumbled – they'd have to stay away from the fridge until an end was in sight. Otherwise, opening the doors risked spoiling the few groceries they had. Tacchon dropped his head against the back of the couch in an audible sighing thump.

Ryo punched him in the arm. "Go see if Yasu's home."

"You go see if Yasu's home."

"You're the one who's bored, go check."

"Fine," Tacchon replied, getting up. He walked to the door rubbing his arm and making a face.

The two of them had been living together for over a year in that apartment. When they first moved in, Tacchon thought it'd be a great way to share expenses. Little did he know that Ryo had an almost mental-disease like need to overstock certain supplies. Or that Ryo would yell at the tv whenever he watched it. Or that Ryo could get him to do just about anything – especially things neither of them wanted to do – just by pushing.

They knew a handful of their neighbors – some through chance encounters, most through sheer nosiness. The neighbor across the hall, Yasuda, shared more than a few of their interests and happened to keep their hours – only, unlike him, Ryo and Tacchon were burning the candle at both ends out of necessity. Yasu just simply preferred it.

Tacchon stuck his head out of the door, glancing around the hall before emerging. It was dark, with no windows to the outside world. The only light came from behind him and from the emergency fixtures, still working on some sort of backup generator that apparently only served to power them. They were really just the exit signs at each end that burned constantly and regardless of the apartment's state. Their glow dyed the hall in a cold red. Tacchon left the door open behind him, hoping the sun shining through their apartment would at least make it a little easier to see.

"Yasu?" he asked, knocking lightly. It was quiet inside – quiet throughout the hall. Tacchon knocked again. Yasu had probably had a late night and was sleeping in, or never even came home in the first place. It was hard to tell without the sound of music drifting out from behind the wooden door.

With no answer, he started toward the left exit, looking for signs of the other neighbors. The apartment complex was simply dead without electricity. He hadn't expected to hear dishwashers running or stereos blasting, but Tacchon thought at least a conversation or two would escape one of the other rooms. Surely he'd hear someone on their phone or a family talking - see someone pop out just for something different to do. Instead, he could only hear his own breath, the buzzing of the exit sign, and his footsteps as they echoed through the still air. It was a level of quiet few people in their complex ever experienced – and for the most part, he was glad that it'd be gone the instant the building was back on line.

At the end of the hall, he stood in front of the elevator. He knew it was probably pointless, but out of whimsy – or maybe even instinct – Tacchon reached out and pushed the down button. He half hoped they ran on some sort of emergency generator too. The button remained dark, but he stayed, waiting to see if it would come.

The buzzing was now directly over his head, making the sound sharp and intense in his ears – one discordant sound filling all the empty space of the hall. Tacchon tried pushing the button again, this time holding it in with his index finger. The red light covered his skin.

He stood there, waiting to hear the familiar ding of the opening doors. He was directly in front of them, would've had to side step the minute the elevator reached his floor so as not to block neighbors. Through the loud buzzing a thought crept into his mind: his back was turned to the entire hall. He pushed the button a few more times, shivering on the last. It wasn't from a lack of heat, he knew – it was a hard jerk of his head to his right shoulder, his upper body tensing up in almost a cramp. All the empty space behind him, that he couldn't see – all the distance that someone or something could be, unnoticed, watching him at the elevator. Watching and waiting.

He knew he was alone, but couldn't stop from feeling the tickle on his neck of being spooked, afraid that any minute he'd turn and see, or catch a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, something wrong, something inhuman. Or worse.

There was a break in the buzzing. A sound like a whisper of a greeting.

Tacchon spun around to see an empty hallway, dark and tinted in red. At some point the door to his apartment had shut, blocking the extra light.

Or rather, he thought to himself as he jogged back, quite annoyed at his own childishness of being afraid of the dark, Ryo had probably shut it. Ryo had probably been yelling at him from the couch. Everything was probably Ryo's fault.

"He's not there," Tacchon said as he walked back in. "The elevators are down too."

"Why didn't you use the stairs?" Ryo asked, his phone to his ear.

Tacchon shot him a look. "I'm not going down three flights if I don't have to."

"It's just three flights, why not?"

"Why don't you go-"

"Shut up," Ryo said, turning away. "Yoko, hey, the power's out here."

He got static in return. Yoko was a friend, and worse – a boss. Ryo usually called him about schedules and work, and sometimes he just called out of mere habit. "Hey, what about your place?" he asked, raising the volume of his voice.

Ryo made a face at the reply. The sound was still heavy with static and the faintest sound of Yoko's voice came through. "Your reception sucks, Yoko, move somewhere else."

_…don't…you know?_

"Know what?"

_…hear…? …stay inside._

"Is the power out in the whole area?"

_…send...one to come…get you._

"Huh?"

_They'll…come and…_

"What's he saying?" Tacchon asked.

 _…just…stay inside…don't…leave…_ The call died out.

"Shit," Ryo grumbled, looking at his phone. The battery symbol was blinking and the phone started to power down. He tossed it onto the couch, annoyed. At this point it wouldn't even turn back on to send out a text message. He mentally reprimanded himself for playing mobile games all night – but surely the power was going to come back on soon. Then he'd call Yoko and ask just what the hell was going on.

"What'd he say?" Tacchon pressed again.

"He asked me if I had heard. Stay inside, someone will come and get us, just stay inside," Ryo said, with a shrug.

"I wonder if it was an earthquake somewhere then. None of the lights were on down the street last night."

"Think it was something worse?" Ryo replied. "Why would someone need to come and get us?"

"Maybe they're evacuating?"

"From what?"

"I don't know," Tacchon replied. He made a face as his stomach rumbled again. "We're off today anyway, it's not like we have to be somewhere."

"Yeah, but-"

"We'll probably hear something soon." He was already in the kitchen, rummaging through their cupboard for anything that didn't warrant a microwave or require their electric stove. He quickly realized his options were to risk opening the refrigerator door or to make room temperature instant pudding. He settled on taking the risk. "There's nothing but beer in here!" he complained, after throwing open the door.

"There's lettuce too," Ryo grumbled. Tacchon was the one who always cooked, who always insisted on getting fancier and fresher ingredients, insisted on stocking their fridge. Ryo was happy with the rice cooker and a drink. "It's not my fault."

"If the power doesn't come back in the next 30 minutes I'm going out anyway," Tacchon muttered, pulling out two beers.

Ryo, for his part, tried his best to sit on the couch, patiently. He started by mentally playing a song he had just learned, strumming an air guitar until it occurred to him that it was light enough outside to allow him to play his real guitar for once. He grabbed it and zoomed through a warm up song. Then he fussed around with notes, struggling to pull the right ones out of his mind. "Fuck, do you have the tabs for _Here Comes the Sun_?"

"You were going to download that yesterday."

"Fuck," Ryo repeated, muttering. He had always thought that he'd be able to lose himself in the music and play his acoustic guitar for hours – but now that he actually had hours to spare, the desire was fleeting. Especially with a song in his head that he couldn't quite grasp and bring to life. "I'm taking a shower," he said.

"Fine."

As he walked, he stripped off pieces of clothing, dropping them wherever – a shirt on the couch, a sock in the hallway, another sock on the towel rack. Ryo sang the song to himself over and over – he knew every English word by heart. He put the top of the toilet down so he wouldn't have to look at the rusted bowl inside and, taking a stab at singing a harmony, turned the knobs to the shower. The pipes groaned in a delay. The water shot out, thin and hard, through their showerhead.

Ryo waited for the heat to kick in – it always took a while in their bathroom. He left the water running to head back to his room and grab a new bottle of shampoo. When he returned, the water was still ice cold. "The water heater's electric too?" he groaned.

He was debating the necessity of cleanliness when a foul smell drifted before him. It reeked, like walking into an open air fish market after a hot day and no sales. The smell came from the showerhead and the water had turned a rusty color, spurting out in intervals.

"Great." Ryo turned off the shower and decided at least he could wash his hair in the sink. He wrapped a towel around his waist and globbed shampoo into his hand before turning on the faucet. As he rinsed the excess foam from his fingers and started to dunk his head into the stream, the stench hit him again – this time it was more powerful. He jerked his head back, sickened at the sight of the water turning again, the faucet sputtering as it struggled to spit it out. Ryo grabbed another towel to wipe the shampoo off of his head, jogging out of the bathroom. The smell lingered in his hair, turning his stomach - but staying in the bathroom would have only made it worse.

"Water's messed up too," he said, walking back into the living room. Tacchon was already on his second beer. "Get me one, will ya?" He crossed their apartment to open a window. "It stinks," he continued, moving back to the couch. "All of the water smells like-"

A knock on their door sounded out.

Tacchon was head first in the fridge and Ryo was closest to the door. He shrugged – the people they knew on the hall generally only used a single knock and they had all certainly seen Ryo in worse than just a towel over the year. Without much thought, he turned the knob and started to pull the door. "Hey-"

It flung open, knocking him back and to the ground. "What the-"

What had pushed open the door stood before him, a parody of flesh and living and more rank than what had poured from the pipes. To Ryo it seemed like the skin had rotted and sloughed off, becoming stuck and fusing back into the body – sharp teeth and even worse claws, and something just vaguely enough human to cause Ryo to shiver. Its clothes were ripped and its eyes burning as it zeroed in on him and lunged.

Ryo put up his arms and legs to hold the creature off of him, keeping its breath away from his face. He had seen a lot of monsters in his life, all on DVD and mostly thanks to a friend of his who felt like horror cinema was the highest form of art outside of porn. Horror wasn't Ryo's thing, and this beast was unlike any monster he had seen before. It pushed hard at him until it lost its footing, and Ryo was able to use his hold on its arms to flip it around, pinning it on the floor.

"Who's at th-" Tacchon dropped the beer bottle he was carrying at the sight, glass shattering and scattering everywhere.

"Don't just stand there," Ryo yelled in panic. He threw a punch, connecting to what he assumed – hoped – was the creature's jaw. "Get something!" Ryo threw another, his knuckles covered in blood. He couldn't tell if he had managed to wound it or simply had smeared what was already there across his hand.

Tacchon looked around and grabbed at Ryo's guitar, still sitting on the couch. Ryo got in another punch, causing the monster to yelp out in pain. "Move!" Tacchon yelled, raising the guitar over his head.

Ryo scrambled out of the way, unable to register what was happening in the adrenaline haze. Tacchon brought the side of the guitar down on the monster's head as hard as he could, cracking the panel and mixing the sounds of splintering wood with splitting flesh. He swung again, screaming and slamming the guitar as hard as he could. After six more swings, the guitar was in pieces around the apartment, fragments of wood coming out of the groaning monster's caved in skull. It held up a hand and, shaking, Tacchon took what was left of the broken guitar neck and stabbed it down into the monster's throat.

It yelled out, sickly and scared – its death throes the frustrated tantrum of a child too young to understand pain. There were tears – if had any to cry – running down its rotted cheeks as it made one last attempt to take a swipe at Tacchon.

"Fucking die already!" Ryo yelled, kicking it in the head.

The room went quiet and the monster lay still.

Tacchon couldn't catch his breath. He fell back, sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor. He looked over at Ryo and realized they weren't safe yet. "The door!"

Ryo looked over his shoulder at the wide open entrance. He ran to shut it – scrambling, tripped up by the towel as it barely stayed tied – and quickly locked the deadbolt and slid in the chain. As winded as his friend, he stood for a minute, not able to speak and less sure of what to say. "What the fuck is that?" he finally uttered.

Tacchon shook his head, getting off of the floor. "What do we do?"

He looked over the dead creature, surrounded by what used to be his – "Dude, my guitar?" – the blood starting to seep out and pool around the pieces of glass.

"You're welcome," Tacchon said.

The sight made Ryo sick, in more ways than one. "Let's get rid of it. Come on, help me drag it to the hallway." He hesitated at the monster's legs, not in a rush to hold the rotting flesh in his hands. Then again, he thought to himself as he watched Tacchon make a face and try to find a way to cleanly pick up the obviously messier end, it could be worse. He gave a nod and both pulled up their sides, carting the body to the door. He let go of one leg to undo the locks, trying to balance the weight without dropping it. "Ready? We're just going to throw it out there and if anyone has a problem-"

He had just about managed to turn the doorknob completely when Tacchon suddenly said, "Wait."

"What?"

"This is my shirt."

Ryo let go of the doorknob. "What?"

Tacchon put down his end and crouched by the torso. "This is my shirt."

"So he has expensive tastes," Ryo replied. "I don't think monsters were raiding your closet."

"You don't understand," he said. "I lent this to Kitayama last week for a date."

"So?"

Tacchon looked a little sick to his stomach. "We just killed Kitayama."

"No we didn't," Ryo said, rolling his eyes. "He just…it has similar clothes."

"The monster has similar clothes? It's him, Ryo, it's the same height and everything!"

Ryo dropped the remaining leg he had in hand, letting it fall to the floor heavily. "That's stupid." He crouched down next to his friend and pushed him out of the way. "If it's Kitayama, it'd have his wallet, right? Look, there's nothing-" He hesitated with his hand in the pocket of the creature's pants – it was an uncomfortable feeling, accidentally bumping the cold muscle through the thin cloth of the pocket.

But worse was that the pocket wasn't empty like he was sure it would be. He was trying to put it out of his mind that there were clothes at all - a peculiar thing for monsters. Ryo pulled the wallet out and glanced at Tacchon before flipping it open.

There, staring back at him, was the pouty face of Kitayama on a bent license. He was another neighbor – lived down the hall. Ryo didn't have much to do with him, but Tacchon sometimes took him leftovers and his kindness had paid off – the kid was currently working as a host and Ryo and Tacchon were the occasional benefactors of leftover expensive alcohol. Ryo took a minute to look at the disfigured and battered face of the monster. Maybe there was something familiar about the cheekbones.

"What happened to him?" Tacchon asked quietly.

Ryo snapped to. "Come on, we have to get rid of him."

"We can't just toss him out in the hallway," Tacchon replied, his voice full of disgust.

"The shower. We can't use it while the water's out anyway - we can put him in there, okay?"

Tacchon mulled it over and with a small nod, agreed. He grabbed Kitayama's arms – as Ryo grabbed the legs again – and backed through the room to their kitchen, en route to the bathroom. The glass shards from the bottle he dropped were still on the floor, threatening to cut open his foot; the pooled blood threatening to make him slip.

They placed Kitayama as gently as they could into the shower, attempting in vain to arrange him in some way that seemed dignified. The dead man's eyes were still open and Ryo realized that he had no eyelids to pull down and cover.

Tacchon shut the shower door and then quietly went for the broom. Ryo exhaled loudly and grabbed clothes out of the bedroom, putting on pieces as he went along. "I still need that beer." He dropped on the couch, completely out of steam, as Tacchon continued to clean the mess. Ryo closed his eyes, hoping that by the time he reopened them, the power would be back on.

Instead, the next thing he saw was his roommate sitting down next to him. "What are we going to do?"

"Yoko said stay here, someone would come get us," Ryo repeated, a nervousness in his eyes as he voiced his thoughts. "He wouldn't know about one random person going nuts, right? Something must have happened to the city."

It wasn't what Tacchon meant. "We killed Kitayama."

Fear quickly changed to anger. "No, we didn't. That wasn't Kitayama anymore."

"We still killed him."

"Fine," Ryo sneered. "The next time we won't. You can just let them come in and eat you." His face fell, suddenly remembering. "I forgot to re-lock it."

He sprang up, moving so quickly and forcefully that he rushed into their door, stopping it from opening despite the fact that no one was on the other side. He kept his shoulder pressed to the wood as he flipped the deadbolt.

Tacchon didn't seem to care. "What happened to him?" he said again.

"I don't know," Ryo answered, less argumentative. "We’re staying here until someone comes to get us." He gave a reassuring smirk. "Yoko knows we're here, so somebody's got to come, eventually. Right?"

Tacchon got up and headed for the kitchen. "I hope the power comes back on soon."

For hours, they waited. The beer didn't last long and as the afternoon approached, Tacchon got over his discerning palette and started pulling out every instant food they had, foregoing the necessary heat and water for some. They stayed on the couch, waiting for any sort of noise, a sign that someone had come. There was nothing but silence outside. Ryo felt hot and sticky, covered in the grime of his last shift at the restaurant 24 hours before. He resisted leaving their main room as long as he could, sure that the minute he moved was the minute the police came barging through with shields and guns to guide them to safety. Safety from what? What had happened, what _could_ happen that would turn Kitayama into a freak and be widespread enough that Yoko would know about it several blocks away? And worse, when someone did come to get them out, what about the dead man – no, monster – in their bathroom? The more he tried to ignore the quiet, the more it poked its way into his mind. He wouldn't look out their window, too unnerved at the sight of empty streets and still apartments.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he forced himself to enter the bathroom. He stood over the toilet and unzipped the fly on his jeans, trying to ignore the fact that right next to him was their shower. It had a hammered glass door, textured enough to obscure details. But out of the corner of his eye he could see the outline of Kitayama's corpse, fully aware that it had no choice but to stare at him. He left quickly, as soon as he was finished, and slid into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. He reflexively shivered and then opened a drawer to pull out their pack of cigarettes. He grabbed two, putting one in his mouth, and took the lighter. He held out the other for Tacchon, who was still on the couch. Once lit, Ryo took a long drag, pushing out the memory of Kitayama's wide-open eyes as the smoke filled in. He exhaled.

"I'm sorry about your guitar," Tacchon said.

"It's okay," Ryo quietly laughed.

The sun started to set and Ryo combed the apartment for candles, anything that they could light. Tacchon stood in the bathroom door, staring at the shower. "Stop doing that," Ryo told him. "It's creeping me out."

Tacchon nodded and shifted his stance, pushing his back against the doorframe. When Ryo wandered off again, he walked over and opened the shower door, letting Kitayama stare out into the bathroom in death.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Ryo said as the last bit of sun died out.

The lights came on.

"It's back," Tacchon said, making a run for the television, jumping over the couch and jamming the power button. All the channels were out, just playing noisy static. After switching it back off, he pulled out his cell phone and hooked it up to the power cord.

Ryo looked out their window. Lights started to flicker on down the street, dotting apartments like Christmas decorations. But no one came out. The sidewalks stayed empty and he couldn't see any movement behind the backlit shades of the buildings. The world remained eerily quiet. "Don't leave, they'll come and get you," he muttered to himself. The lights were back on, but they were going nowhere.

"No service," Tacchon said, holding up his phone.

_Knock._

Ryo jumped at the noise. He glanced over at Tacchon, this time closer to their door. Tacchon slowly approached it and turned his head, closing one eye to look out of the peephole. "The hall lights are back on too," he said. "I can see Yasu's door."

"Was it Yasu?" Ryo asked.

"I don't think so, his door's still closed and I don't see…fuck." Tacchon immediately scrambled back from the door, running into their couch.

"What? What is it?!"

"Look," he answered, rubbing his face with his hands. "Just…look."

Ryo walked over, having to stand up slightly on his toes to see out the peephole. At first, all he saw was light – then the stone grey carpeting and the white walls, the brass number on Yasu's door. He stretched up a little higher to look down. He thought what he heard was air from the vents coming on.

It wasn't air. It was the streaking of fingertips across wood, the barely audible vibration at the start, moaning out as they pulled down. It wasn't once. It was repetitive, pawing at the door. One of the fingers turned in so the nail scratched down, adding sharpness. Fingers continually pulling down on the door, begging.

There was wheezing, too. Ragged, pathetic wheezing – air escaping from both its mouth and the hole in the side of its neck. "…need…help."

Ryo backed away from the oozing lump – the gasping melting flesh – crying outside his door. "Kamenashi?" he asked.

"I think so," Tacchon said, sick to his stomach.

"…need…help," barely floated through the door, followed by a labored thump.

"Why our apartment?" The last time Ryo had seen the budding sportswriter, they passed each other on the stairs – Kamenashi gave a wave and a polite grin. They didn't interact often, but Kamenashi had a distinct look, a different face – a face now somewhat distorted, as though through an abstractionist's filter, but nonetheless instantly recognizable. "We barely even know him."

"They can hear us," Tacchon suggested back, starting to whisper. "Everyone else is being quiet."

"…need…help."

"Don't let him in," Tacchon finished.

"I wasn't going to," Ryo spat back, in hushed tones.

They waited for a moment, not speaking. Kamenashi wouldn't leave. "Come on, let's find something to eat," Ryo offered.

They both went into the kitchen – Tacchon to cook and Ryo to get some distance away from the scritch-scratching and wheezing of Kamenashi's pleas. The water was still rank and their stock low, so Tacchon opted for a canned stew, pulling a pot out carefully to make as little noise as possible. When it was done, they poured it into cups and ate next to the sink, neither interested in trying to eat near their front door. At first they just ate, foregoing noisy conversation. Finally, Ryo, appetite long gone, opened his mouth to take a bite, and instead out came, "Maybe they went outside."

"Something in the air?" Tacchon asked. "That made them like this?"

"We were both inside last night, maybe they weren't?" Ryo eyed their faucet suspiciously. All he had that day to drink was beer and the very idea of being able to splash cool water on his face, quenching his thirst, made the hot, thick stew even less appealing. "Maybe it's the water supply."

"At least we're safe in here."

"Yeah," Ryo said, giving up and putting the cup in the sink, abandoning it. "We're safe here."

He stood next to his roommate, shoulder to shoulder. Their kitchen wasn't very big and there was little to separate it from their living room. To his left, Ryo knew behind their door Kitayama was still there, staring out. He kept his left shoulder raised, his body slightly turned away. He was stepping in place, moving around and fidgeting. Sometimes when he was in a bad mood or Tacchon was doing something annoying, the apartment felt so small. When he wanted to practice or when their families came to visit. Even having Yasu over tended to remind him that they were in a tiny apartment. Kitayama's corpse was several body lengths away, in a shower, behind a closed door. Ryo looked around, surveying the kitchen, the living room – the apartment – able to measure out in his head every square inch. The air was stuffy and if he raised his arm, he'd inadvertently hit Tacchon. He started fidgeting more but no amount of movement was going to set him free – no amount of struggle would wash away the feeling that Kitayama was standing right there, trying to look over his shoulder. He started scratching at the back of his neck.

The action caught Tacchon's attention – he turned his head to look. Ryo gave back a sheepish grin. He was embarrassed, but his smile gave way as he noticed a tear rolling down Tacchon's right cheek. "The stew was too hot," Tacchon replied, quickly wiping his face.

_THUD THUD THUD._

They both jumped as the front door rattled. Kamenashi's first knock had been so slight - he hadn't looked able to produce such violence, such strength. "Maybe that's them," Ryo suggested. "Go look."

"I don't want to know what's out there," Tacchon replied.

 _THUD THUD THUD_.

"But that might be the cops or whoever's supposed to come get us," Ryo said.

"I'm not looking out there," Tacchon told him.

"Fine." Ryo strode up to the door, fear momentarily replaced by his irritation. When he got there, he hesitated before pressing his face next to the wood to see out of the peephole. "There's nothing out here," he said. "Except Kamenashi. Fuck, he looks worse."

"What do you mean worse?"

"I think he's dying," Ryo replied, turning and jogging into the kitchen. He came back with a hand towel that he placed at the bottom of the door, stuffing it as close as he could.

"Why are you doing that?" Tacchon asked.

"Just…" Ryo double checked the locks before walking away, hoping the towel would be unnecessary and that Kamenashi's blood wouldn't leak in to their apartment as it trickled down the outside of their door. "No reason."

"…need…help."

He couldn't go into the bathroom and even standing in the kitchen meant being entirely too close to Kitayama. They couldn't leave until someone came to get them – and Kamenashi was blocking any sort of escape, regardless. Sitting in the living room was uncomfortable, too quiet to block out the wheezing and the scratching, which were both painfully loud. "Let's go to bed," Ryo said.

 _THUD THUD THUD_.

It happened one more time before they left the living room – the door shook with the pounding, creaking against the locks. "Are those going to hold?" Tacchon whispered.

Ryo kept pushing him out. "Come on."

"What about the lights?"

Ryo hated to turn them off – they had only been on for a short time. But if people – no, not people anymore – kept coming to their door because it was obvious someone was home, the lights would be a shining beacon in the night. He flipped the switches next to the door and ran into the kitchen. With a shiver, he then ran in the dark toward their bedroom and crashed into Tacchon's back, slamming the door behind him.

Tacchon crawled into his bed, right underneath the window. Usually he pulled a shade down to block the neon signs and street lights outside. He left it up. The moon was full and more light came in than usual. He was about to pull the comforter up to his shoulders when Ryo slipped in next to him, forcing him to scoot over to accommodate them both. Ryo's bed, which was closer to the door, remained empty. Tacchon looked over at his friend and Ryo took a deep breath, about to let out some excuse.

"It's safer this way," Tacchon said instead.

He turned on his side and pressed his back up against the wall. Ryo turned on his side and kept his back to the door.

 _THUD THUD THUD_.

Tacchon turned his face into the pillow and shuddered his breath into it. He swallowed hard. Had Ryo not automatically gotten in, he would have pulled him into his bed at the first sound of the beating on their door.

"It'll hold," Ryo said. He didn't sound sure of himself. "It's cold," he muttered, scooting closer.

They lay there for hours. At first they tried to stay as quiet as possible. Even at the other end of the apartment and through closed doors, they could hear Kamenashi scratching, slowly and weakly. Ryo started talking about a number of topics, quietly, and when he became hoarse, Tacchon sang, in a whisper, some of their favorite songs.

 _THUD THUD THUD_.

The heavy pounding on the door happened three or four more times, shaking them both awake when they had finally started to drift to sleep. The last time, the thumping was so loud, so violent, they were sure their door would fly off.

At some point, Ryo realized, Tacchon had grabbed his hand.

And, at some point, he also realized Tacchon had finally been able to fall asleep. Ryo let out a small frustrated sigh – his roommate was good at that. He was left to quietly sing to himself, competing with the sleeping exhales of his friend and the whimpering, sickly cries outside.

As the hours passed, Ryo could have sworn that the pawing was getting weaker, even though he could still hear it – amplified thanks to everything else being so still. Each stroke took longer, fingers and nails sliding down the door slowly – and it was longer and longer between each one. The wheezing was raspier, sounded wet, becoming gurgled.

Ryo's head pounded with exhaustion and his left eye started to twitch listening to it.

"…need…help."

Kamenashi was now crying. Not just begging for relief but choking out sickly sobs. He stopped saying he needed help. Instead, as the first crack of daylight appeared, he wept, "God…please…"

In the dim light Ryo looked around the room until his eyes finally fell upon a fan sitting in the corner of the room.

Tacchon woke not when the bed was suddenly empty, the sheets tossed aside. Not when he heard Ryo's bare feet quietly smacking against the hard floor as he made his way to the door. But when he heard a series of thumps that became increasingly pulpier. The bed was colder without the second body and Tacchon sat up when he realized the heat of his friend was no longer there. At first he rubbed his eyes, thinking perhaps the last two days had been just a dream – a fever from working too hard at the restaurant. He stretched, yawning, and looked around the room. The door was open.

Tacchon scrambled out of bed and slid into the living room just in time to see Ryo closing the front door and turning all the locks. He held their fan in his hand. It was covered in blood, dripping onto the floor, the metal cage bent and partially broken.

"Ryo."

He dropped the fan and turned toward his roommate. Ryo's eyes were bloodshot and there were noticeably dark bags. "I couldn't take it anymore," he said quietly.

"What did you do?"

"I helped him," Ryo said, heading toward the kitchen.

Tacchon ran to the front door and looked out the peephole. Kamenashi was dead. He thudded his forehead against the wood and sighed. "We can't stay here."

Ryo wanted to wash his face. The water still made his stomach turn, intensifying the urge to throw up that came with watching Kamenashi's mutated, grotesque face shriek in terror as he physically tried to shut him up for good. But he couldn't go into the bathroom. He refused. The smell of Kitayama was starting to leak out and Ryo knew if he even opened the door, he'd feel a hundred times worse. "Do we have any beer left?" he asked.

"I think so," Tacchon replied, joining him in the kitchen. "Yeah, there's one." He handed it over to Ryo, who twisted the cap off and took three big gulps before leaning over the sink and pouring some over his hair, neck, then throwing some onto his face. He handed the bottle back. "Want some?"

"No thanks," Tacchon said, putting it on the counter. "I don't know that'll help."

"I had to do something," Ryo said, rubbing his face.

"We can't stay here," Tacchon repeated.

Ryo ran his fingers through his hair, somewhat instantly regretting his decision to use the last beer. Television was still out, they couldn't watch the news. Neither of their phones detected a signal, they couldn't call out. The router was back up, but they couldn't get any of the pages to connect. Yoko knew where they were, Yoko had told them to stay inside. But if someone was coming to rescue people, they were just one apartment on a higher floor out of many buildings. And there was still no sign of the police or emergency crews or government outside. Ryo wasn't sure he could take being in the apartment anymore – the cramped rooms, the drifting smells of dead bodies, his own unwashed scent. He was desperate for water, but still convinced the rust colored glop from their faucet would only speed up imminent death. They could stay and maybe make it another couple of days. Just a couple of days - and there was someone out there who knew where they were, knew they needed help.

"Wait," Ryo said to himself. He had barely been able to hear Yoko and it was no guarantee that Yoko had heard anything in return. For all he knew, Yoko had no idea where they were. And even if he did, what was he going to do about it? "Yoko's is only a few blocks away. If we ran…"

"What if he's been changed too?"

"Then we'll go from there," Ryo said.

They both grabbed bags – Ryo had his old backpack, Tacchon a shoulder bag – and they stuffed them with the minimum: only a few clothes, their cell phones, Tacchon grabbed his laptop. Ryo grabbed a lamp and ripped the shade off; Tacchon took the largest knife from their kitchen. "Let’s go," Ryo said, his hand on the doorknob.

He took a deep breath before turning it, very slowly opening the door. When nothing busted through the crack, Ryo nodded to his friend and stuck his head out into the hall, looking both ways. "There's nothing here, come on."

Tacchon had to look away as they stepped over Kamenashi's dead body. They had left Kitayama a mess, a bloodied and beaten version of his former self. But Ryo had really let loose on Kamenashi – Tacchon wasn't sure anyone would be able to recognize who the creature used to be thanks to Ryo's handiwork.

"Elevator?" Ryo asked.

"Stairs," Tacchon replied. "If there's something waiting in the lobby…"

"Good point."

They jogged to the other end of the hall. "Hang on," Tacchon said, halting him before they reached the exit. He was looking directly at the last apartment on the right. "The door's open," he whispered. "Who lives there?"

Ryo thought for a moment and then made a face, cursing under his breath. "Matsumoto," he whispered.

"Maybe he's just looking for help."

"Yeah, maybe."

They both crept quietly toward the door. For a moment Ryo considered giving up and going with the elevators after all – but Tacchon had been right. If there was something, someone, downstairs waiting for them, they'd be trapped. At least in the stairs, they could run and look out the door before opening it. The idea that Matsumoto might have turned was enough to cause Ryo's stomach to drop. The two had hung out a couple of times, gone out for drinks. He hadn't known Kitayama or Kamenashi well enough, but he knew Matsumoto. And turned, Matsumoto would probably be just as stubborn as he had been in normal life.

They paused in front of the open door. "I don't see him," Tacchon whispered.

"No, but I see something else." Directly before him, hanging on the wall, was a baseball bat. Ryo slightly remembered Matsumoto once going on about how much he loved the sport. The lamp in his hand was small – if something came at him he'd have to strike hard and often and at too close a distance. "Wait here," he told Tacchon.

"Why?"

Ryo edged his way into the apartment, looking around him with the lamp readied.

"Ryo!" Tacchon hissed. "Are you nuts?" He quickly turned, worried that their noise had attracted someone else. He backed away from the opening and ran to the stairs, looking through the small window before opening the door. He took the first step and waited – one foot ready to run if Ryo's decision backfired. "Hurry up," he whispered.

The room was rank, dark. Emboldened by the lack of movement or noise, Ryo ran to the wall and grabbed the bat. When he turned around, he could see toward the bedroom, where a pair of eyes was glaring at him, slowly approaching. "Fuck," Ryo muttered.

Whatever it was, whatever had taken his neighbors and transformed them, rotted their flesh and caused it to seep and pour down their bodies, leaving bones exposed and blood free – whatever had happened, it had gotten Matsumoto too. He stumbled into the main room. It hadn't been long: his face still looked almost human, his eyes reflecting a human confusion. "Ryo," he managed to say, his mouth barely cooperating.

Ryo relaxed. He held the bat at his side and squeezed it tight in his hand. Matsumoto wasn't a threat – not yet. He wasn't gunning for blood or flesh. And he wasn't past the point of decency, pathetically begging for death. But there was no saving him – at least not in life.

Ryo raised the bat. "I'm sorry, Jun," he said, before taking a swing and smashing the solid wood against the other's skull. He struck several more times until he was sure it was dead, and then took a moment to look over the body strewn out before him. He shivered – it was easier than when he beat Kamenashi with the fan that morning.

"Come on," Tacchon almost yelled at him as he approached the stairs. "What happened?"

"He was there," Ryo answered, hustling down the stairs behind him. "I took care of him."

They crashed onto the final landing, halting at the door, trying to catch their breath. Tacchon looked out the window and couldn't see anyone in the lobby. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They opened the door and sprinted out, dashing straight for the exit and busting through. They didn't stop outside; instead, they kept going until the edge of the building and turned into the alleyway, slamming their backs up against the brick. There was nothing else there and Tacchon slid down to the ground, panting.

"Yoko's is just a couple of blocks that way," Ryo said, still holding the bat in one hand, ready to swing. He remained standing.

His positioning left the bat right next to Tacchon's face, giving him an unobstructed view of the blood dripping off the end. He could smell it.

"Shit."

"What?" Tacchon asked, looking up.

"Look over there," Ryo said, pressing himself closer to move out of view. "It's the whole block. Maybe the whole city."

Tacchon leaned over and looked to where his friend was pointing. They could see down a street, a block off in the distance. There were people out, moving. Not people, but monsters – those that were just starting to deal with the betrayal of their bodies and those that were already far, far too gone. Monsters and people crying for help and things in between.

"How are we going to get to Yoko's?" Tacchon asked.

"Stay out of sight," Ryo answered. "And do whatever it takes."

Tacchon nodded. The bat was still too close to his face. "What if one of us turns?"

"Whatever it takes," Ryo repeated. "If you turn, I'll-"

"Right," Tacchon interrupted. "Whatever it takes." He stood up and inhaled, deeply. A little longer and they'd be okay. "We just need to survive."

They took off, running and trying to stay close to the buildings, ducking down alleys if they could and doing whatever to stay unnoticed. Safety was just a few streets away.

 

-

 

"This is Koyama Keiichiro with Channel 4 News, on location at the site of a bizarre set of murders. Two young men were killed today, both said to have lived in this apartment complex. Neighbors described the victims as friendly and hard-working and not the types to get mixed up in gang violence. One of their neighbors had this to say earlier."

Yasuda looked uncomfortable and shifted his weight. "Everybody in the hall knew them. They were willing to help out if you asked. They kept to themselves a lot, both of them, though."

Koyama pulled the microphone back to ask another question. "And what about the suspects, they lived on this hall too?"

"Across from me." Yasuda looked to the side. "No one had seen them for days," he explained. "Well I saw Okura one night, he was just standing in front of the elevator. I said hello but he didn't say anything back – he just stood there for a while. I didn't think much of it, everyone's had days like those, right?"

"And the victims, did they know the suspects?"

"I guess?" Yasuda answered. "Like I said, everyone on the hall knew Kamenashi and Matsumoto. I heard Kamenashi knocking on their door a couple of times asking them if they needed any help."

"And on the night of the murders?"

Yasuda looked embarrassed and shrugged. "I heard some yelling from their apartment, but that was pretty normal. They were loud guys. They were yelling all week long. I just figured they were practicing for their band."

"Those two." The newscast switched to footage of Yokoyama, the microphone in front of his face. He looked agitated. "I called them a couple of weeks ago because they'd missed work. They were complaining about a power outage but I told them power outages aren't an excuse!"

"Do you remember what the conversation was like?" Koyama asked.

Yokoyama shrugged. "They didn't say a lot. I asked them if they knew that I was going to have to fire them if they didn't show up. All they did was stay inside that apartment – I threatened to send someone to get them and kick their butts. Two weeks, two weeks they didn't show up to work! They just stayed inside and didn't leave. They hung up on me, so I had to let them go."

"And were either of them aggressive toward anyone at work?"

Yokoyama hesitated, looking stunned. "What? No. Why, are they-"

The newscast switched back to the live feed, where Koyama was standing in the hallway, police behind him marking off the door. "A third victim was found in the apartment of the two suspects, but police are unsure at this time if he was part of the same series of murders. According to the report, the body had been there for some time and may have been killed weeks ago – the identity is at this moment unknown, but believed to be that of another resident in this hall. Police say that if you see either Nishikido Ryo or Okura Tadayoshi do _not_ approach them and call authorities immediately. Both are believed to be armed and highly dangerous. This is Koyama Keiichiro with Channel 4 News – back to you, Sho."


End file.
